Either Or
by UnAnimo
Summary: "When rules don't apply, follow your heart..." AU, Romance, Smut, Shounen ai, ByaRen.
1. Little Sakura

**Bleach: EITHER OR**

AU, Romance, Smut, ByaRen.

* * *

**Prologue: Little Sakura**

A black, sleek limousine slowed and stopped on the side of the road. Behind them, another three black cars parked ruthlessly, scorching the pavement. Eight men in a black suit suddenly stepped out. They move into position, hastily glance left and right, and then run towards the park. The window of the limousine lowered, half enough to see the head of the blond man sitting inside. His green eyes flicked towards the park. One of the men in black looked back at him, signalling. He nodded in return. "He's here," he said, and the woman sitting to his right sigh in relief.

"Is he alright?"

"Yes."

She looks so concern, but Urahara Kisuke noticed she doesn't want to move at all. "Well?"

She turned away. "Do you think he knows?"

"He wouldn't be here if he doesn't," he said.

"I hate this job." She sighed and flipped a strand of her hair away from her face. "How do I look?"

He shrugged - she frowned. "Make it quick," he said as she stepped out of the car. "Look-" he pointed towards the park when she glared back at him. "We're starting to get a lot of attention." Knowing her, he added: "I'm serious, Yuroichi! No more games. I want you both inside this car in two minutes."

She waved her hand at him, as if he was a fly. "Yeah yeah yeah..." and rounded the car. She bobbed her head vaguely to greet few people and crossed the street. "Where is he?" she asked the first man she saw. The man motioned her to one of the Sakura trees. There, Yoruichi saw a boy sitting under on one its branches, holding a book. She controlled herself not to smack the boy's head for running away and, at the same time, proud, for how can a nine year-old kid escaped from their scrutinize eyes. Oh! I taught him that, she said to herself, smiling. Though Yoruichi Shihoin and Kisuke Urahara were tasked to guard the lad ever since he was a toddler, the two of them never considered him nothing but just. However, as age and knowledge progressed, the security of the boy increased as well. Now, as she walked towards the Sakura tree, there are black-suited men everywhere, walking stealthily back and fro, arm's raised to people as if something viral spreading along the perimeters of the park. Yoruichi sighed. She doesn't like the idea of taking this smallest freedom away from the boy, and she can see that every day from the young man's eye.

Yet still, there is nothing she can do to prevent it. The boy was a product of a royal family, and his safety is Yoruichi Shihōin and Kisuke Urahara's only concern.

She glanced back at the car, nodded when Kisuke mouth the word "hurry" and turned away. But Yoruichi slowed her step, expecting the boy to flinch, but he did not. She wondered how long before the boy can embrace the new life waiting back home, about the horror of the real world. No one knew. Nobody can predict. Before, he was just another boy wanting to be loved... and now this.

She stood before him, searching his eyes. Her shadow enclosed his petite figure, and noticed the dark moistened spot staining the pages of the book. He was crying all this time.

"What are you reading?"

"Nothin'."

"We should be getting home soon."

"Do I have to?"

Yoruichi noted that: it sounded more than complain than a question. "Yes. We have to."

"Can I stay here for a little while?"

Yoruichi glanced at Kisuke again. He shook his head at her.

"I'm sorry but you can't, and you know that," Yoruichi said to the boy. "Your grandfather is waiting at the manor."

"Am I to be punished again?"

"No."

The boy chided his chin towards the men in a black suit. "Who are they?"

"Don't mind them."

"Are they the ones with Papa?"

Yoruichi felt her heart broke in two. The boy knew the truth about his father - the death, but still hid it beneath the hood of his eyes.

"No," she said as they boy glanced up at her, waiting for an answer. "These men are different. They are here especially for you."

"Why?"

"Because you are special."

The boy looked at the men again. "They look weird. They're scaring me."

Yoruichi laughed. "Yes, they look weird, aren't they? Perhaps they intended to do that to scare the bad guys."

"Bad guys scared of you too, but you don't look weird."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

Silence was between them for a while, and when the boy started to speak, Yorouichi couldn't deny she really do hate her job.

"Am I going to be like Papa," the boy said. "I mean... do the things that he does, like talking to different people, and travelling and stuff?"

"Yes."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know. I just feel I don't want to."

"Don't you want to be like him?"

"I want to be like him. I just don't like... how they treat Papa. They always get mad if Papa talks to them."

"Do you mean the Elders?"

The boy did not answer.

"Then don't," Yoruichi said. "You can be whatever you want when you grow up."

"Really?"

She eased herself down, leveling with the boy, and then pulled him closer. Smiling she said, "Just promise me, when you grow up, wherever you are, whatever you do, whoever you became, always, always follow your heart. Do you understand that, Byakuya?"

The boy nodded. Then... "You're leaving me too, aren't you?"

She blinked. "No. Of course not."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

And then for the first time, Yoruichi saw the boy smiled at her. Really smiled at her. She held up both her hands and the boy leapt to her lightly. She walked back to the car, carrying the boy in her arms.


	2. Stranger in a Strange Land

**Stranger in a Strange Land**

* * *

The storm is coming, given that it has been only three weeks since summer had started. Byakuya doubted the news was true.

Holding a steaming cup of coffee, he gazed up the sky from his apartment window and there, he found no false at all. Gray clouds bulking behind the silhouette buildings, darkening, deeper beyond, with the shape of somewhat a bush tree, a mushroom, animals with horns and claws. He closed his eyes as the wind started to seep through his alabaster cheeks. Oh yes, storm it is.

He glimpsed at the clock from his kitchen wall and frowned. Twenty minutes past eight. It took him twenty minutes to decide whether he'll open the bookshop below or take the day-off, sleep for a while. It was cold, made his body relax. Perhaps closing the shop the whole day would be passable.

Then again that would be, too, the lamest excuse of all. The bookstore is the only thing he got since he exiled himself to independence.

Sighing, he walked from the dining area, strides the hall and down to the first floor, opening the lights then pass through the counter. He grabbed the keys in the drawer and went straight towards the entrance door. The pavement was already wet when he pushed the steel bars up, and then cursed because it stuck in the middle. One woman, probably twenty years his senior, greeted him good morning, and Byakuya winced mentally because he had to force his little smile back. She's always there day after day, morning, afternoon and night, wearing signature clothes too ridiculous for her age, with bloody-red lips cracking a smile, or more like a gawk. Powdered blush painted her cheeks like one of those Russian dolls, and thick dark silver – or probably teal – mascara to match. She even wore her jewelry candidly as if there's no tomorrow.

Byakuya shook his head. He knew the posh woman's version of 'strolling' is _not_ purely accidental.

The woman stepped towards him, eyes speaks volumes. Hmm. Mysterious man this Byakuya was, she thought, and quite a snob, as if opening his mouth would demise him for a viral disease. But the neighborhood tries to speculate that. What's the difference anyway, no harm done as they say.

A lone man with few friends – if his definition of friends includes a creepy giant with an eye patch, or the dark-skinned woman with a temper, then so be it.

Handsome, graceful, look little fragile, but could break a bone and nose if prodded, and does not speak to anyone. He came here and decided to stay to do business, live with his own accord, and yes Byakuya answered those questions very long time ago. His sole intention is to sell books, live in peace, and not to fancy anybody.

Holding the steel gate up to his chin, his both hands' begins to stiff. God. Damn. It. Move already! Another push, more pressure this time and finally, the gates rolled up. He stood there for a while, panting, sweating, and then froze. Why does he feel like someone behind him checking up his ass?

And the woman keeps on smiling at him when he glanced back, two feet away, frowned only to shush her miniature poodle to keep from barking the man who has the potential of strangling the little creep.

"Bit of a late, are you lad?"

"Oui." Good thing he learned the language.

"Should have a helper, young man. That thing could break someone's neck."

Excellent idea. Wanna try. But Byakuya forced another smile, trying to avoid conversation, but the woman is clearly not getting the picture.

"My husband was like you when he was young. Strong."

Oh God. "Where is he now?" Byakuya asked.

The woman shrugged. "Dead."

"Oh." I'm not surprise... "Sorry."

"Don't be." She smiled and placed her manicured fingers into Byakuya's arm. "You know, he has the same color of eyes as yours – my husband."

Byakuya shivered slightly, can't decide whether the flirting made him feel awkward – because someone told him Mme. Bevier had a little crush on him – or the pink nails digging his shirt. Or Poochie or whatever the dog name was.

He stepped back. "Well... uhm... I better go."

"Sure, sure. Don't let me keep you. And oh! I'll be dropping by this afternoon to procure that Michener of yours, and of course, coffee... with a little chat, yes?"

Byakuya didn't like the tone of that last note but he nodded. "Good day, Madame."

"Good day, Monsieur. See you later."

Byakuya breathed finally when the woman started to walk away, dragging the snarling little devil with her. He forced his hand to wave back when she waved her pink fingernails at him. He rolled his eyes. Weird day to start with, he thought, and proceeded inside to continue on with his work.

He set the four small tables into place; two for outdoors and two for indoors. Done. Wait. Damn it! He forgot the rain. Wincing, he took the two tables again and placed it inside.

The rain started to pour and hard and thank god he made it in time. In a few minutes, a knock will knock his reverie, so he immediately prepared the coffee his customers' so fond off instead of volumes of books, and started to line all together before someone broke his routine. He took out few pieces of customized porcelain mugs from the back drawer and placed right above the counter, then winced as his eyes landed on the clock – _nine_. Another grunt sounded from his throat as he saw the tables and chairs screaming in an odd angle and undone right in front of him. A week ago his doctor said no strain movements, but Byakuya deemed only because of exhaustion. Now, to hell with the advise, he might bore himself to death if he choose to tuck himself under the mattress while staring at the ceiling. For ten years he managed to live on his own, no servants, no people following him around as if he was a goddamn porcelain vase vulnerable to break if nudge heedlessly.

Ten years of practice is enough to tell everybody to fuck off...Byakuya smirked at the thought. Saying those words again to their faces was an honor – if the opportunity landed, that is.

He was lunging back and forth, in between decision what to do with the damn furniture, when his attention caught by the sound of the chimes. His head snapped up, tilted, lost in nanoseconds and took a quick mental note of wall that needs a repaint, and then shrugged. He pushed back and dropped the chair softly to the wooden floor, shifted a little and turned. Mme. Bevier loves to piss him off. He was about to tell the woman the store 'is still and obviously closed', when his own breath choke him, making him looked stunned, rooted to the ground, if not overwhelmed. He tried to school his posture, keep his composure, and he did, but it seems it was too late.

Standing by the door was a tall man, and Byakuya couldn't understand why the man's presence made a thunderstruck out of him.

He looked away and grabbed the chair again, ignoring the stranger's pleading brown eyes, and whipped back seconds later as he realized he did polished the floor with his own bare hands last night.

The stranger wave a gloved hand at him, looking like a wet dog out of a lake, jaw visibly shaking under the wet red mane.

Byakuya stared at the face, then to the feet, and then back to the face again. He's not native, he thought. "Can I help you?"

"Oh thank god English! It's raining outside, may I?" A rueful smile crossed the stranger's face that made Byakuya draws his brows neared. He frowned even more when the other began to move forward without consent.

"We're still closed." Byakuya's eyes plastered to the floor instead of the man. "This is a bookstore, not a shelter."

Caught halfway, the stranger stopped and raked his hair away from his face, revealing his pearly-white teeth. "Yeah I know, but it was raining outside and..." he tilted his head. Then he looked down. "Oh! Sorry." He laughed and stepped back. "Okay, how about this? I'll buy those five hard-bounds from the window..." he jerked his thumb back, "in exchange for a coffee. Is that okay?"

Byakuya studied the stranger even more. The man has tattoos. Byakuya hates tattoos.

However it was the first bargain deal Byakuya would ever have since last week. Mostly customers came for his odd, exotic flavored coffee and occasional chats, absently scanning few volumes and then left, that's it. No one cares for books these days.

"Fine." Byakuya replied in a dry tone. The stranger smiled at him and began to move.

But the floor..."Wait."

"Huh?"

"Don't move."

Byakuya turned and disappeared for a while, and returned with a towel and a mop. "Here." He tossed the towel to the man, and then motioned him to sit down.

The stranger dried himself lightly, and was about to move again when Byakuya stopped him _again_.

"Make up your mind, man, I'm freezing here."

"Take that off." Byakuya pointed towards what the stranger thought was _his_—

"You've got to be serious."

"Your boots. You're ruining the floor."

"Oh."

The stranger did so and stride barefooted across the floor, placed his boots and wet socks under the table. He jolted slightly when Byakuya appeared in front of him with the coffee, half-minding how fast the other moves. Then when he lifted his gaze and saw the price on the board, he spilled the contents from his mouth back to the cup and narrowed his eyes at the storeowner. "No shit. For a cup? This is free from where I came from, you know."

"Then go back to where you came from."

The stranger shook his head; thinking it was a joke, but when he saw the other man's eyes shows otherwise, he sighed, took a single note from his leather wallet and gave to the other man. "It does a bit overprice, don't you think?" he said, but the storeowner ignored him and walked away.

Byakuya returned to his routine, eyeing the stranger every now and then, and grimaced each time the other flashed a grin at him. He fleeting look at the clock again – half past nine – then to the door. No customer. Great. Now he's stuck with this guy. Where is Mme. Bevier when you need her?

"So... you owned the place?" The stranger queried lightly while Byakuya's moping the floor. Byakuya did not answer. The stranger tried again. "You work alone?"

No answer. Again, but this time he'd made sure the other would convey.

"Haven't heard lending a hand cause hearing impairment."

It meant for a joke but when he saw the back muscles underneath the white fabric stiffens, he mentally kicked himself as two stormy gray orbs glared at him in return. The stranger flinched, sipped his coffee and roamed his eyes around, twitching his lips to make an effect of fascination by the interior of the store, of which, a matter of fact, he was.

"You finished?" Byakuya said.

"Sorry, what?"

"Done with it so you may leave."

The stranger glanced outside. "Still raining."

"Not my problem."

"What about our deal?"

"I don't deal with punks."

The stranger snorted. "Kinda odd how you gauge people despite you own this kind of business."

One dark brow quipped slightly. Pfft! Metaphor.

Byakuya regarded the stranger nonchalantly, though inside he really, really want to punch the guy's face across the room.

Then out of a sudden, the stranger pushed himself off the chair and strode across the room. He raised his right hand to the storeowner and said, "Names Abarai. Renji Abarai. You?"

Byakuya's eyes began to wide. Somewhat caught off guard, he dropped his gaze at the reaching hand, then glanced up only to glare at the man.

The stranger pulled his hand back; those eyes had enough warning for him to back off.

"Sorry." The stranger shrugged. "I'm new here and I lost my friends back at the park. I couldn't find them and I don't know where to start. I was on my way back at the hotel when it started to rain...and then I saw your store—"

"Even though you see the sign says closed still you barged in."

"Well if you'd put some translation there that says "go away" this wouldn't happen. And I think you're not that..." he was going to say uptight but... nevermind. "I'm drenched under the rain, so I decided to give it a try."

Byakuya shifted his weight, one hand on his hips, the other leaning the mop. Noting the stranger head to toe he said, "You're wet."

The stranger snorted. "Took you long enough."

Byakuya made a low sound of disapproval and then sighed. It's not in his character to be a Good Samaritan but there's something about this Renji-guy made him change his mind.

_That, _or perhaps he really wanted this guy to get the hell out of the store.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he parked the mop behind the storage door. "Go to the back door and climb upstairs," Byakuya began to say. "Two doors to the right was the laundry room. Next to it was the bathroom. There's an extra clothes there."

The stranger blinked. "You trust me that much?"

"I have a gun and I know how to use it."

"Ah. Typical."

Byakuya turned away. "And I'm only doing this because I want you to leave. I don't like strangers inside my premises."

"I'm a customer."

"Whatever."

The stranger stifled a laugh. "You're one strange man," he said. He went upstairs.

* * *

Renji wiped the mirror as steam started to build up. He grabbed the towel he had seen from the reflection behind him and starts to dry himself. Taking Byakuya's instructions, he saw the dryer and stubbed his wet clothes in it.

Ten minutes had past and he was bored already. Leaning against the dryer, hand cupping his chin, body bent, one foot tapping the floor, synchronizing with the beeps of the machine, his eyes scanned the room outside from the ajar door. He straightened, ignored the click of joints of his lower body and stepped out of the room, towel wrapped around his waist.

"Let's take a tour..."

The apartment was not that big, but the interior was amazing. No bookstore owner could afford such fabulous furniture. He was a bachelor all right, Renji thought, but even the likes of a wealthy man, no storeowner who earned few bills a week could turn such a space into a beautiful place to live in. What had happened earlier, Renji believes the storeowner, the man with an odd sense of humor, is indeed a mysterious man to begin with and definitely wanted to stay that way.

The coffee and the hot steam bath did not help warm Renji's chilling body, so he decided to go to where he expected the kitchen stood.

As he passed through the narrowed corridor, connecting the living and the kitchen, he saw pictures hanging on the wall. It was old. Not that old but it was old enough for him to say it was old.

One picture among the twenty images he saw was a boy with gray eyes and raven hair, sitting beside the old man. Renji looked closely, half minding why this excites him.

"There you are you little brat... and was that a smile?"

Scribbled below the picture, of which, Renji assumed, was the date the picture taken.

"Hmm, he's five years older than me."

He moved away, panned his eyes again, and landed on another picture. In this there was a man, standing solely on the beach, eyes resembles to the boy.

"I bet you're his father."

Renji move down the hall and there, in the middle of the room, was an image of much emphasized picture of a Sakura tree. He saw the boy again, but much older this time, sitting alone under a tree, wearing a school uniform. The boy's face was different, Renji noted, as if something lacking there, as if something had lost within the young man's inner core. There is no smile bearing upon the face.

"Yep, you're him, all right."

Then Renji recognized the uniform. It was typical clothing from boarding schools abroad. "No wonder you're so..." he stopped, as he saw another picture – a woman with a small rounded face and dark hair. Renji could see guilt upon the woman's purple eyes but, as same those of the boy, her smile was priceless.

"What are you doing here?"

Shit. Renji yelped, gripped his towel and stepped back. He turned and blur of black strands flashed right in front of his eyes, followed by an alabaster hand reaching over, slapping the picture frame face down. Renji shook his head abruptly, seeing the storeowner up close, about two inches from his nose, and the presence of the other made his brain stopped in seconds. It took him for a while before he could collect himself to face the obvious raging man.

Another swift movement and Renji was taken aback again. The man shoved him to the opposite wall and frames, vases, figurines scattered and smashed to the floor.

Defense. If someone pushed you, you push back. Like Physics. But Renji had no intention to oppose. He invaded the man's privacy, so let him be.

Well, for a little while at least.

It was a surprise though. He may be taller and bulkier than the other guy, however, bulkier or not, still made Renji look like a wimp.

Or perhaps he had a huge control for not breaking the man's jaw.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? Who sent you?"

Rapid questions and Byakuya is snarling now, but the first and last confused Renji as fuck. "Whoa wait," he said. "I just wanna go to the kitchen."

"Who sent you!"

"What?"

Another shove, and this time Byakuya's elbow starts to lock Renji's shoulder to the wall. "Who!"

"Stop screaming, will you!"

Renji could see the other man's pupils getting larger and larger up close. Fuck, he should have known. This man was mental! And lethal! He could feel the strength under those arms. "Let go of me!" He squirmed, trying to push, but those fucking grip was strong.

Then there was a scent... Renji seized his stirring because there was a scent invading his nostrils, a very hypnotic and annoying one. Something familiar... something delicious... something...what, fruity?

He flinched, because it was getting stronger, and when he looked at those gray orbs again, he knew where the scent is coming from.

Renji shook his head. The oppressor was on killing mode. No time to know why in god's name this man wore a cologne similar to wine punch.

The bastard is pinning him down and Renji thought about kicking the other man's groin. No good, he was trapped, and Byakuya knew what the other man thinks so he pushed his right knee forward between Renji's legs.

Renji couldn't kick his way out and the idea of a head-butt was a bad idea either. His head trapped between the wall behind him, no space to pull back to knock the motherfucker's forehead. His right hand was the only shield he could use to push the other away, while the left was gripping with dear life to hold his morality.

"I can't... breathe, you... bastard!" Renji choke.

"Answer me!" Byakuya shouted.

"Wha...what the hell's your...problem...man..."

"You're not gonna do this to me again!"

Fucker said what? "What...are you...talking about..." Renji gasped. "Whatever shit...that is...I'd nothing to do with it..."

Nothing, Byakuya just stared at him with that same intense gaze, and Renji wished he could poke the man's eye.

They looked at each other; one snarling, one gasping and finally, Renji understood.

Oh so that's why this guy never gave his name, Renji mused. A one-walking and breathing privateer. There are bad guys around the world, true, and everyone had the rights to defend themselves. Including this asshole right here. Renji, noting the pictures he'd seen earlier, the sakura tree, the clothes they wore, the missing twang of the real accent of this guy, he concludes that the storeowner was also a stranger like him.

The paranoia Renji can accept that, but the way the inquisition goes, the who and the why... yeah that was weird.

"Someone told me people around here are snobbish, but I can tell you're not one of them. Why? Because you're crazy!" Renji pushed back and thank goodness, the man pulled his arm away, just an inch, perhaps to let him speak...

"Who are you!"

Or to answer a question.

Renji is getting really, really pissed now. "I told you my name is Renji Abarai. I'm here to have my first ever vacation since I took my job, but my friend, who propose as to be my personal tour guide, didn't take his anti-moronic pills and left me at the park! I was walking down your street here when it started to rain. I was planning to go back at the park. See if my friend was there, to remind him how jackass he was. But I got lost because I can't fucking read what the fucking street sign says, that's why I ended up knocking at your fucking door, of which by now I'm starting to fucking resent it. There, fucking happy now?" He frowned. He sighed. He really hates pressure. "Sorry about that," he murmured.

Byakuya glared at him for a moment, then finally, he let go. "Is that true?"

"Do you want me to start all over again?"

Byakuya held up his hand – a gesture of no – and stoop down to pick up the broken frames, but half alert and ready to dodge if the possessor of one those long legs decided to knee him to the face.

Renji glanced down and shivered. Shards of broken glass and other things scattered about the floor. The cold wind from the window hit his body. However, it's not the wind that gives him the problem, nor the shards, but the man who was kneeling in front of him. Renji was naked and the only thing that clings to him was the damn towel. And that same goddamn towel wasn't even helping to cover the stiffening part of his nether regions, "Fuck..." he hissed.

Byakuya looked up at him. "What?"

Shit. "Umh..." Renji swallowed hard. "I uh... can't move. And uh... I'm..." _hard_... "cold!"

"So what do you want me to do, carry you?"

"Oh geez thanks, man, that would be great."

Byakuya kicked the remaining shards away from Renji's feet. "That'll do."

"Yeah thanks," Renji said impassively.

"Your clothes are dried. You may leave."

"What? No kiss?" Kiss meaning smashed each other's faces.

When Byakuya left him to march downstairs, Renji took a quick step towards the laundry room and dressed, grabbed his things and ran downstairs. In the middle of the step, he heard two voices. One was Byakuya and the other was... _a customer?_ "It doesn't sound like one," he said to himself.

When he appeared from the back door, Renji saw Byakuya talking to a woman. The woman was petite and dark skinned. She was shouting at Byakuya, and then stopped, withdrew as she saw Renji emerged from her view.

Renji noticed the two knew each other well, and what's between them Renji was in no position to butt in. I had enough for one day, he thought.

He walked pass slowly from the two and nodded at Byakuya he was leaving.

When he stepped out of the door, he glances back – the open sign flipped by a hand. The store is closed and it was only half past eleven.


	3. Scars

**Scars**

* * *

"Wait. Can you repeat _that_ again?" Renji gripped the phone hard and felt like smashing it to the floor. He was back at the hotel in one piece, reckoning Ichigo's face laughing at him. The phone started ringing as he enters the room, and shocked to find his friend wasn't there to greet him. Dread and worry, panic crossed his face, and finally sighed in relief hearing Ichigo's voice on the line, saying he's fine. However, when Ichigo told him there's an emergency going on back home, and didn't even book a flight to meet him, Renji began to explode.

"_Sonofabitch!_"

"I knew you'd say that."

"I'm going to kill you!"

"Oh and that too."

"Gah – what do you want now, a cookie!"

Ichigo tries to butt-in humor, as he always does. "No, thank you, but how about an iPod, you borrowed mine, remember?"

"Can't believe this... I can't believe this..." Renji shook his head; hand flew into the air, half-amused, half-eager to punch something or someone, especially someone, as long as there's a face! They'd planned this vacation for months. Actually, there were four of them, but Shuuehei and Ikkaku backed out; R&R was delayed for another three weeks. Choosing Bangkok, Manila and Dubai, Ichigo blurted out _ooh let's try Europe_ - Paris! Besides, Ichigo claimed, he'd been in France before, thrice, and learned few tricks while exploring the place, that's why Renji, reluctant at first, agrees with him. So yeah, okay, Paris it is.

But right now; fuck that. All he wants is to skin his friend alive.

"This is a joke, right?" Renji said, barely a whisper, or more like talking to himself. "A joke, a stupid old joke. Please, please, tell me it's a joke. Tell me it's a joke!"

"Yeaaahuumh... no. No, I don't think so, sorry," Ichigo said, sniggering as if he won an evil deed.

"You... you self-centered lying... how can I be so... how can you... you... you tricked me!"

"Did not! I just, well, didn't tell you earlier, that is."

"_Argh!_"

"Aw. Calm down! I promise I'll be there in a week. _Jesus_."

"Wha – A week!" Renji's brows reach his hairline. "A week? Seven days? I only have ten days, do you have a slightest idea where I am? Calm down? _Calm down!_ I'm half world away, how am I supposed to calm down, you asshole!"

"Sorry, dude, really, it's an emergency..."

"You got your girlfriend pregnant, and that's an emergency? Did it occur to you by living with her for two years one day she'll be knocked out! You're a doctor for godsake, how could you'd not known! Well unless you're stupid and had the habit of aggravating me, what do I expect? But you know what pisses me off, really, the real reason why I want to murder you right here right now, is the fact that you already knew she's late long before I left, and you didn't even tell me!"

"I just did, didn't I? Two minutes ago!"

"Oh I'm sorry, did I ruin your _fucking plan!_"

"Renji, I'm warning you..."

"Oh no, no, no, don't you dare use that on me!"

"And don't you say such things to Orihime!"

"This isn't about her, this is about you! I like Orihime, it is you who's the dickwad here. What do I suppose to do now?"

"Oh come on, Renji, you're a grown up man, you know what to do."

"Fuck you!"

Ichigo burst out laughing. "See? You speak French now. You don't need me to babysit you."

Renji gritted his teeth. "Kurosaki, in a situation like this, don't try to be funny."

"Sorry, can't help it."

There was a long pause. Then Renji heard a long sigh after that.

"I'm really sorry, Renj... really, I am. I can't leave her, you know... not like this." Pause. "Sounds like I'm breaking up with you, eh?"

Renji narrowed his eyes towards the lamp. "It's all a joke to you, isn't it?"

"Okay, I'm really sorry. I didn't tell you because you'll be upset. Remember the last time you've been pissed? You beat the shit out of somebody when we were kids. Seven stitches, bleeding nose and a broken finger, remember that? I do. Clearly. Because that somebody was me. I'm really, really, really sorry, Renji, please don't get mad at me, please."

Too much for one day, Renji thought. Rain, wrestling and shit...

One psycho and his expensive coffee...

_This_.

"Fine," he sighed, nothing else he can do, anyway. "I'm sorry too, man. I have a shitty day – _don't ask._ And sorry if I accused you of being a self-centered son of a bitch, a lying bastard, and dickwad, and..."

"Okay, okay, I get it, I get it."

Another sigh. "I'm bored."

"Don't worry. I'll make it up with you as soon as I get there, I swear and pronto."

"Now you sound like a perv."

"Damn proud of it thank you very much. Oh and hey, you're gonna be a godfather. Cool, huh?"

Renji shifted the phone to his left ear and sat on the couch. "Do I have a choice?"

"Ha ha very funny."

"You're gonna be a dad, imagine that."

"Asshole."

Renji felt himself smiling. "Well what can I say? Congratulations, man. Proud of you."

"Thanks. So... is this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

"Don't push it. I still wanted to kill you."

There's a loud noise from the background, followed by a high pitched squeal.

"What the hell was that?"

"My future wife raiding the fridge... _again,_" Ichigo groans. "She eats everything these days. Last night she cooked spaghetti with something..."

"Something?"

"Trust me you don't want to know. She turned me into a guinea pig, forced me to eat her leftovers. I love her man, but I hate her cooking. To get the man's heart is through his stomach – who the fuck invented that, anyway? Ah shit! No, no, no, babe, not that one! Yes, babe, that one's for the cat. The shelves – no, the other one. Oh God, Renji, help me."

"Ah, payback's a bitch, eh?" Renji said. He could hear Orihime's arguing only God knows what in her hands to Ichigo. "Give her my thanks, will yah."

"Asshole – oh not you, honey. Yeah, yeah, be there in a sec. I gotta go, man. She's freakin' out. See you in a week, okay?"

"Yeah. Take care, man."

"You too."

"Bye."

Renji switch off the phone and toss it away. He dropped his long body to the bed and fixed his gaze to the ceiling. "Now what?" he mumbled.

Paris, lovely place – no, scratch that, the most beautiful place he has ever been! But the only thing that ruins it was the fact he'll be stuck inside the four corners of this room for a week, waiting until his friend shows up. Hiring a tour guide is damn expensive, too, so no-no for that. Besides, he's alone and he knew he'll get bored by looking at the museums and one Eifel Tower.

Shit. Skip the Eifel part; he's afraid of heights!

Where to go, where to go...

"Wait a minute," Renji grinned and glanced at the window and watched the blue sky. "I think I'll go back to reading."

* * *

It was a bright sunny day when Byakuya opened the bookstore. He was arranging the books alphabetically when the door chimed. He turned to greet the customer - and then frowned as he saw a familiar face stood by the door. "You again!"

Renji smiled at him. "Good morning to you, too."

"You had a nerve coming here after what you did last time..." he turned away and goes back arranging the shelves, "what do you want?"

"I'm here to buy a book..."

"Really. This must be a thrilling day for you."

"... and to apologize."

Byakuya's hand froze.

"Um... not exactly," Renji said. "The book, I mean. Not that I'm not interested..." he added. He shifted a little, hand massaging the back of his neck, and suddenly an idea popped inside his head. "I was wondering if you saw my uh… jacket."

"What?"

"I think I left here yesterday..." he panned his eyes, then chinned towards the counter "... I think I left it back there."

"There's nothing back there," Byakuya said.

"You sure? Upstairs, then?"

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Yeah," Renji nodded to himself, "I think I did."

Byakuya dropped the five books he's been holding for the last five minutes, hitting the table with a loud thud. "There's nothing upstairs!" he snapped. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathe deeply. "Look," he said, toning down his voice, "I want to start my day in silence and not with a migraine, and as for your jacket, I do not recall you wearing any yester..." Paused. He heard a soft snort, and when he glanced back, he saw Renji's shoulder is uncontrollably shaking. Byakuya's face turned red.

"Why am I wasting time talking to someone like you? Leave me alone!"

"Hey, I didn't mean... Hey! Wait!" Renji followed the storeowner. "Why so sensitive? It was a joke."

"I am a busy man. I don't fancy jokes. If you have no business here, you may leave."

Renji bit his lower lip and nodded contemplately. "Okay." He stepped back and walked towards the table, near the show window, and sat. "Well then, as a customer, I like some coffee, please."

Byakuya felt his jaw drop. What kind of a man who cannot grasp the simplest words such as "no" or "go away"?

Summoning his patience back, he then moves to the counter stiffly. There are varieties of coffee mixtures at the counter, and one of them was his favorite. Byakuya beamed his lips as his decisions made. Coffee, then? Then let's try this one.

He schooled himself and walked across the room. He placed a small cup and saucer soundly on the table and gave Renji the taste of his own parody.

Renji smiled back. He didn't mind annoying the man, though, and obviously, the idea was stupid. The man was uptight, if not arrogant, dangerous.

And yet there's something about the storeowner's serene face and gray eyes triggered Renji to come back, instead of mining the real reason why he was here in the first place. Apparently, he has no intention to piss the man by the use of his grin alone. He concluded last night that the only person he needed was a man with a built-in GPS. _This_ man exactly. But why? Or better yet, why _him?_ Renji could summon an excuse but right now, as he recalls the scent, the mystery behind those gray orbs, he had no fucking idea what that is.

As he was waiting for Byakuya to lift the pot away from the cup, Renji's eyes ran along on the storeowner's candle-like fingers, up at the back of the owner's hand. Renji couldn't make another word for beautiful, but he was sure how to describe one if he sees one. Doing all the chores around, how did he do it? Perhaps it's in his genes, Renji noted to himself.

Byakuya moved away abruptly; felt Abarai's gaze prickled his skin. He rolled down his sleeves and hastily walked away - but not before Renji saw a blackened bruise on Byakuya's left forearm.

Playing he didn't see a thing, ignored the second voice inside his head spiking a question, Renji took the magazine in front of him and sipped his coffee.

"Cuban," he then said, trying to make a conversation. "The coffee, was it Cuban?"

Byakuya's plan is to ignore Renji fully, but, ah yes, the moment finally favored him. He faced the redhead and pulled his lips into a curve.

"Luwak," Byakuya replied as casually as he can be, as if he's a mentor teaching the dumbest student he ever had. And Renji wasn't even trying to be a smart-ass, either; he didn't know much about coffee, anyway. He took another sip and nodded.

"Never heard of it. No fan of coffee, but this one's good." He glanced at the board. "Is it on the menu?"

"No."

"Where did you get it? Black market?"

Byakuya ignored the stupid grin. "You really want to know?" He waited for a nod so he can proceed, took a quick glimpse at the near empty cup, then back to Renji.

"Luwak is a local name for palm civet in Indonesia," he said. "A weasel. The little climbing, crawling, hunting, frugivorous creatures that eat raw berries, pulpy fruits and the likes. For instance," Byakuya glanced at the cup again, "coffee berries. Perhaps insects and small animals too, who knows," he shrugged. "Oh and listen, this is the good part. Luwak has this special ability to ferment coffee berries inside their digestive system, and after a few days of cycle, the locals gathered the same beans the potent beast have consumed... by picking it on the ground." He saw Renji's eyes slowly began to wide, cup halfway to his mouth. Byakuya sneered at him. "You want me to continue?"

Renji's face starts to contort, as if he discovered something and cursed for letting it injected his brain.

"You... you mean... this... came from..."_  
_

Byakuya nodded. "If you want to define it that way, but trust me, people go gaga over the... whatever it was in your mind. Six hundred per pound. Amazing Mother Nature was, hm?"

He stepped back a little as he took the 'not emptied' cup from Renji's hand. "Is there anything else you need..." victorious and still wanted to banter, "Monsieur?"

Renji wave a hand vaguely. "No thanks."

"Loo's over there, mops over there..." Byakuya pointed left to right. Walking away, lips curving into a smile, he said, "If you sense an urgency to puke, run as fast as you can. If not, cleaning would do... and some disinfectant."

"Jerk." Renji glared on Byakuya's back and snatched the GQ mag.

Few minutes later, a tall guy with spiky hair with an eye patch suddenly appeared by the door. He was spooky, Renji noted, and it seemed to him that this man didn't come here for books, or Byakuya's weird mixture of coffee, either. They stared at each other, studying each other's movement. When all is enough, Renji was the one who spoke first.

Well, trying to. Using the language is like a tongue-tied from hell, so instead, without thinking, he blurted, "Got a problem, dude..." and shit, it sounded more like "punch me, I'm open" in a regular basis rather than a polite one. Hope the guy doesn't understand English.

Because yeah, from the size of the man, about five inches taller than him, _plus_ the muscle, Renji knew he'll end up creamed anytime. However, the man did nothing. He'd just paraded himself, sneered, and sat on one of leather couches, opposite to Renji.

Meanwhile Byakuya, behind on one of the shelves, heard Renji's voice and turned. He frowned at the tall figure sitting next to the window. Renji saw Byakuya's jaw stiffened, reaching the temple, but the storeowner acted as if the newcomer was no importance, like a bystander who'd lost his way to the Carnival.

Magazine below his nose, covering half of his face, Renji keeps on glimpsing at the two, left and right, like watching a game of ping-pong, and goes back to his reading but realized it made no sense anymore – especially if he can't fucking understand what the hell the magazine says. He was about to toss it away when Byakuya started to speak.

_"Neden buradasın."_

Renji blinked. Nope_. _Definitely not French.

The man smirked, jerking his head towards the redhead, and spoke to Byakuya with the same language. "Been busy these days, eh? New boyfriend?"

"He's a friend," Byakuya answered in a way Renji could understand. It was Renji's own native tongue, and Renji noticed the contour, the dictum was... perfect. Perhaps for _not_ making him look like an idiot and...

Wait. Renji choke a little. Fuck the friend-thing. The idea about what the giant man said, plus the sneer, plus the inclination of the head, followed by Byakuya's reply, seems... well... Renji's getting it. If one must know what the hell is going on, body language would do the trick.

The giant man looked at Renji, hard and long, and then glanced back at Byakuya. "Keeping another one, eh? Why, so you can fuck up again?"

"Who and why it's none of your concern," Byakuya again shifts back to his previous tongue, the first one. "We have nothing to talk about. I doubt you'd say the exact same thing as Yoruichi the other day. Leave."

Renji raised a brow. He spoke what, four languages? Jerk _and_ a genius... and I thought I'm the only one, Renji said to himself.

The absurd conveyance lasted for few more minutes, until Renji begins to feel he's the only Earthling here. Watching the two was like shifting different channels from one defunct cable, and that's it, he had to leave.

"Stay where you are!" Byakuya shouted as he saw the redhead's own version of Great Escape, while Renji, rooted to the ground, yelped from the storeowner's sharp voice, startled but holds the impulse to punch the bastard in the face.

"The hell is that for? _Jesus_."

"Let the fucking kid go, Byakuya, or I'll make a trophy out of him."

"Oh so you _habla Ingles_ now? Fuck man, I've been mapping the entire planet for the last ten minutes, and all of a sudden you can speak English?" Whoa, wait a minute... Renji snapped his head to the storeowner and grinned. _Oh._

Byakuya ignored Renji's discovery; he's too busy yelling the giant man. "Let me explain this to you as gently and succinctly as I can. I am what I am and you bastards can do nothing about it. _Now get the fuck out of my store so I can go on with my life!"_

Oh now he's showing off, thought Renji. It would be cool though if Byakuya said it in plain English.

"I'm warning you, dude, he's got a gun," Renji commented, and laughed by adding, "and a psycho, too. Believe me, he clopped me the other day for walking to his kitchen..."

"Shut up, Abarai! Just... _shut_ up!"

"Hey I'm just..." Sneering, Renji glanced back at Byakuya, froze when he saw the storeowner is... panting. "Shit, are you okay?"

Then he turned to the giant man and blinked. A while ago, when the giant man stepped inside the premises of the store, he was surrounded by a halo of hate. Now, though only one eye shows, Renji can see the air of hatred fades, the expression changed.

A loud thud followed by a grunt caught his reverie, and when he looked back he saw Byakuya leaning against the side of the magazine shelf, one trembling hand to the chest, pale and sweating all over, mouth agape and breathing furiously.

Without a second a due, he rushed towards Byakuya's side, stopped halfway when the storeowner gave him a warning look.

The giant man saw the same thing and shook his head. He knew Byakuya since they were kids. The pompous brat had the ability to push everyone away, hating everyone who shows him pity, yet the truth, _they_ only wanted to save him from his own insanity.

Too bad he had enough. His patience drifted since Byakuya left home. He doesn't consider him as a friend now but... he _do_ care. He calls it "brothers gone idiocy" with "go against each other" policies.

He stood up, charged across the room, grabbed Byakuya's arm and yanked the smaller man close. "How long do we have to do this!" The anger again. "Not that I'm complaining but really, I'm tired and bored of your crap. Enough with the nonsense. You're coming with me. NOW!"

Byakuya pulled away, and, with his remaining strength, he fisted his hand and threw a punch, hitting the giant man to the jaw. It was not that strong, but it was enough to tell him to back away.

"How dare you lay your filthy hands on me," Byakuya snapped. "No one tells me what to do! This is my life now! Can't you understand that! I hate you! I hate every one of you. _Leave me alone!_"

"Like fuck I will!"

"Hey!" Renji moved; that was his cue. No need for a fucking language to tell him so. He wasn't plying or trying to be a hero, but seeing Byakuya like that even a seven year-old can tell the difference there is something wrong with the man, so he crossed his body between the two, pushing Byakuya aside, while the remaining rational part of Renji's brain tells him to kick himself because he knew the giant man can whip his ass in a heartbeat.

"I don't know what the hell is going on but I think you better leave," Renji said. Yeah, he had no choice, and yeah, this was stupid. He looked at Byakuya over his shoulder, "I know it's not my business but you have to calm down. Heads starts popping on different direction from the window. We're attracting too much attention, you know."

The giant man stared both of them for a moment. Stepping back, he plastered his one eye on Byakuya, teeth grinding, he said, "I'll be back. Better convince me to leave you alone, then, but if you fail, I swear, I will not hesitate to put you in a sack and drag you out of the store, right after I ripped his _fucking head off!_ Do we have an understanding... _Sir?_"

Byakuya just stared back, no comment. Or maybe he just can't breathe.

"Good. Now. _You._" He turned to Renji and sneered. "You have balls, kid. I like that, otherwise you'd end up with a broken neck if I don't. But let me give you some piece of advice. Don't you ever do that again. Mind your own shit. Because I'm telling you, I'm a very, very detailed man when it comes to body parts, especially if I'm annoyed. Got that?"

He walked towards the door, opens it, let himself bath under the sun for a while, while scaring everyone away.

"Yeah... and I know Taekwondo, you... you _creepo!_" Renji shouted, but the man was already gone. He grabbed Byakuya's shoulder and led the storeowner to the chair, ignoring the slight objection from the man leaning against his chest. "Stop moving, damn it!"

"Get away from me."

"Fine, just stay there!"

Renji moved abruptly, panning his eyes, looking for something, and then found one. He grabbed the glass and the pitcher of water, panned his eyes again and snatched the sugar from the counter, then ran back to Byakuya. "Here. Drink this."

Byakuya snapped his eyes up. "Wha... what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Just take it!"

Byakuya did so, taking the mixture from Renji's hands. A minute later, his palpitation subsides.

Tilting his head, Reji asked, "Feeling better now?"

Byakuya nodded slowly, but his eyes averting somewhere but Renji.

"Good. Now..." Renji stood up and held up his hand. "Come."

"Excuse me?"

"You're in no condition to run the store today. Come."

"I can take care of myself."

"Yeah. Right. Come."

"Touch me and I'll kill you."

Renji raised a brow. "You're welcome. Now give me your hand."

* * *

"Byakuya blinked few times and saw blur. He closed his eyes again, by the time he opens it again it was already dark outside.

Though still sleepy, he pushed his body up. The clock from the nightstand says seven. He glanced around, looking for the redhead; gone – because there was a note sticking on the lamp that says: _'Done cleaning. Shop closed. Mme. Bevier says hello. Didn't wake you. Can't stay either, you snore. Renji.'_

Byakuya snatched the note and read it again, and then toss it away. "I did not!"

He felt hungry and went to the kitchen. He opens the fridge. He stopped. He closed the door. He saw another note under the magnet: _'I cook while you sleep. Dinner's served... over there.'_

Byakuya followed the pointing arrow that leads him to the dining table. There's another note beside the gourmet vegetables: _'I lied. I ordered takeout. Enjoy. Renji.'_ Byakuya shook his head. "Bastard."

After dinner, he went downstairs to check the store. All was in place, the books, the mugs, and snorted when he saw a note sticking on the Luwak container: _'Marked'._

He glanced around. Saw another yellow sticker on the cup. Byakuya realized it was the one Renji had used that morning.

No words this time, only a nine-digit number and a smiley face.

* * *

Renji was glancing at his phone for every five minutes. He looked at his watch. Ten. He sighed.

Thirty minutes later, while watching TV, cursing because he couldn't understand the hell the driver of the speeding car was saying, his phone started ringing. All the excitement turns scary shit when Renji grabbed his phone. What will he say? Why would Byakuya call? Idiot, of course he'll call. You gave him the number, Renji said to himself.

"He...hello?"

"Renji Abarai?"

Renji froze. A female. "Who is this?"

The person on the other side hung up.

"The fuck..." Renji hissed. He pulled the phone away and pressed the 'received call': No number. "_The fuck!_"

Nobody knew his personal number. Except for Ichigo. Was it a prank? Why would Ichigo do that? He had to make sure. He pressed the quick dial.

"Whah?" Ichigo's slurry voice answered after few rings. "Shit, man, do you know what time it is?"

"Past ten?"

"It's five in the morning, asshole."

"Oh."

"Go back to sleep, babe. It's Renji," Ichigo said to Orihime. Then his voice became weary, "Shit, man, did something happen? Where are you? Are you alright? Something wrong? Are you in jail? Tell me!"

Renji sighed. "Nothing happened. I'm in my room. I'm fine. Nothing's wrong. Why would I be in jail? Did you call?"

"What?"

Renji slumped back to the chair. "Guess not."

"Renji, are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm okay," he snorted softly, "sorry calling you at this hour. Go back to sleep, man."

"Okay." Ichigo wasn't convinced. "See you in a week?"

"Okay. Bye."

Renji turned the phone and grabbed the remote, wondering who the mystery caller was. Two hours later, he fell asleep.

**TBC**

**A/N: **If you find any offensive, let me know.


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